Carved from stone by broken hands turned up towards Heaven.
Born of melted glass once hot with passion now cold and unforgiving.
Pedi stools are for masterpieces showing the vulnerability that this child does not permit himself.
God grant me the Love that I need to show him that each stroke,
Each curve and crack-
Is worthy of the greatest home.
Would that any other angel be as gloriously grounded-
Set with poor man’s treasures.
He has stood and braced many a storm-
Withered many a loss.
Together we make an unspeakable art.
An unmold-able-
Un-paint-able-
Priceless craft.
Art made people should foresee the beauty of the Earth.
He belongs to himself and yet stays with me.
Solid gifted embrace....
My stone cold angel.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Powerful and intense A joy to read thanks